A Definition of Love
by Avium
Summary: [Ranken] There are many definitions of love out there - what would yours be like? An Aya-POV take.


**A Definition of Love - Fujimiya Ran  
**

  
Disclaimers: Don't own them - thank God for that, ne? Because I'd be squeezing in Rankeness every episode or two ^_~  
  
Author: Avium  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairings: Aya x Ken / Ken x Aya (they're still trying to sort out who is the seme and who is the uke ^_^;;)  
Fic length: 1/2  
Timeline: 1st TV series  
  
Author's note: Too much Ranken angst can give you a headache, especially if they are running around in your head demanding for a happier fanfic ^_^;; This is going to be a feel-good fanfic, so if this isn't your cup of tea, you might want to read some of my angstier works (hint hint). On another note - I had 2 of my fanfics pulled from FF.net although they were clearly labelled as R (and I swear, I can't write smut, so they can't be NC-17 *is very puzzled*). So if you want angsty Ranken, you've got to wait for me to archive them on my website ^_~ *blatant self-promotion*  
  
My first song fic to date, so don't expect anything spectacular. 'A New Day Has Come' copyrighted to Celine Dion and Sony Music Entertainment.  
  
This fanfic is written in Aya's POV. The matching Ken POV piece will be in the next chapter, but don't expect me to actually write it ^_~ Notice Aya's slowly changing way of referring to Ken as the fanfic progresses *grins*  
  
Without further ado I present to you Ranken sap ^_^  
  
_italics_ - denotes lyrics

  
  
-@-@-@-@-  
  


  
_ A new day  
A new day  
_

  
  
Some days I would wake up and wonder what have I done with my life. It was strange - almost like a denial at times, really, the way I sometimes found myself facing our routine. Wake up and smell the freshly cut roses, unlock the door to the shop, hear the chiming of the wind chime against the door for hours on the end and then lock up the place to get ready for Weiß's next mission.  
  
Typical. Typical and… monotonous.  
  
Mechanical motions, I would hoist myself out of bed, neaten up the bedding and head down to the washroom to freshen up for the day. The tangy bitterness of the tea I drank the night before would linger on my tongue - a strange, gagging taste that should be cleaned off immediately if possible. I liked to read in bed, and a cup of tea always helped me stay awake for that one more chapter. The icky taste the next morning was the price I paid for it - not too steep, but enough to make me wonder if that extra chapter had sunk in as desired.  
  
There were no new sensations to be had, to be felt. The doors that I drifted past each day bore the same aura and sounds, and I memorised them down to the details of their sequences. Omi and the piercing taps of his keystrokes each night, sometimes working well into the afternoons without rest… Ken and his round of early morning football that was followed by the sound of an object (or at times, *objects*) crashing down. There were times when he earned an undignified growl from Yohji for stirring him from dreamland, but they came less frequently when the blonde decided that it was more rewarding to spend the night at his conquest's house instead. I didn't know then whether to blame Ken for being stupid or Yohji for being such a skirt-chaser.  
  
I hated having to walk past Yohji's room when he was in, though. There were those mornings when he would have a brunette or a blonde tucked under his blanket, enveloped in his arms and sometimes screaming for him while he worked his way into her with a fervour that was never present in his work.  
  
I don't know about you, but I found grunting to be more disgusting than sexy, but the ladies he brought back didn't seemed to be too bothered by that. Women were confusing creatures, and usually dead annoying as well. It was a combination of ill traits that one couldn't help but notice as time went by, especially in our profession.  
  
*Snip*  
  
The swishing of metal against metal as a pair of scissors began their meticulous work, dead leaves and drooping flower heads began to fall onto the floor. Just like Ken to do so - forever careless. I bet he would probably forget to sweep up the mess when he was done with the pruning of the orchids. He would probably be forced to stay in during lunch to clean up the mess.  
  
That is, if I didn't kill him for using *my* scissors first.  
  


  
_ I was waiting for so long  
For a miracle to come  
Everyone told me to be strong  
Hold on and don't shed a tear  
_

  
  
No one knew about Aya-chan, just as no one knew of my other side - Ran, Fujimiya Ran. The existence of the young man that laughed and joked, and who believed in the brightness of tomorrow; that he was the very same person standing in front of them.  
  
Because Ran was dead.  
  
He died in the fire two years ago. Two years lapsed in the real world but it felt like an eternity to me. It seemed so many lifetimes ago when I was last with my family, my sister clinging onto my arm and pulling me away from my female classmates, jealous that they would steal my attention for her away. So childish of her to had acted as thus, and even more so of me to encourage that action by teasing her about her vow to marry me which she took at three.  
  
Now I touched her skin, brushed my fingers against that cold cheek. The familiar squirming and giggle didn't follow.  
  
And briefly I wondered how I had managed to live for so long in this empty shell - devoid of a human soul. A soul that was traded for the chance at avenging the loss of my family and myself…  
  
Did you know that I still dream about you, Aya? When you have awaken, your arms thrown around my neck and holding me in that fierce hug just like our mother did? How these simple dreams have kept me going for so long?  
  
That's why I still held on, Aya. I wouldn't have them tell me to give up hope, wouldn't let them bring that wretched piece of paper before me to sign you off as dead.  
  
Because I still believed.  
  
That was why I died another death when they took you away from me.  
  


  
_ Through the darkness  
and good times  
I knew I'd make it through  
And the world thought I had it all  
But I was waiting for you  
_

  
  
Never would I allow myself to be caught in such a state ever again, did you hear me? Never. Especially not when you had those ridiculous notions stuck in your thick brain about me losing *my* head.  
  
I wouldn't have you drag me down from the roof like that for a second time; the place where I used to stake out at to do my stargazing, even if it were pouring like it was Noah's Ark for us all over again. There would be no place for sinners like us on it anyway…  
  
I didn't want to get out from the rain - those hard splashes of wetness that slid off my skin and soaked into the cotton of my clothes. They cleared my mind and refreshed my senses, and the cooled anger I felt was a fair exchange for the bitter coldness I experienced afterwards. I didn't want to leave the sanctuary of the roof, even if, as you so had eloquently put it, that I was "going to fucking slide off the roof and land on the sidewalk like some disgusting road-killed cat!"  
  
You dragged me back to my room, and I didn't protest. I wasn't in the mood to fight back, especially against you. I knew how hard those fists were, and I didn't want one of them embedded in my stomach there and then, thank you.  
  
I was, however, impressed by your respect for my privacy. Instead of rummaging my room for a towel, you went to your room and gave me one of yours. The Germany flag patch scuffed against my skin, but the rest of the fabric absorbed the trickling droplets fast enough. I thought you would have left then, though - left me to my own devices and to my own demons. Instead you sat yourself down on my chair and stared at me the entire time that I was drying myself off.  
  
The towel carelessly tossed among the bedding, and I was back in my own world again. Back hunched over and hands clasped under my chin as I tried to continue the train of thought that you had so rudely derailed minutes ago. But nothing would return, not when you were there, staring at me in the darkness - turquoises questioning and almost demanding answers to be given…  
  
Why did you care anyway, Ken? Did you think that I was weak? That I was going to end it all because they stole my sole kin from my side?  
  
I was stronger than that, much stronger.  
  
Because I knew that if I allowed fear and sadness to seize my mind, I wouldn't be able to function as efficiently as I would like to, and I wouldn't be able to rescue her at the first chance we had. I had to be strong for Aya-chan's sake. I was never strong because of myself - I became strong for her sake.  
  
I wasn't weak. I willed myself to swap all my insecurities for that final shard of hope that glittered all-too faintly in the darkness…  
  
But I knew that I needed more at times… That hope alone wasn't enough to sustain a demon as wretched as I was. I needed some form of affirmation - to reassure me that even if my last reason for living was to crumble into dust, I could still hold on - for the sake someone else. But the mere thought of it… just that vision lingering in the mind…  
  
I still wondered why did I break down that night, though. Hands suddenly thrown over my face and concealing the violent sobs that slipped from my cracked lips. And those tears that tasted so salty and foreign after years of never being released - they slid down my cheeks and danced across quivering lips… Saturated sorrow, bitter regrets - emotions that I was so sure of never having to feel after I joined Weiß.  
  
Weakness.  
  
Fatal weakness.  
  
There, now you had a chance to glimpse it and mock me, Ken. Your bastard of a leader - *crying* - in front of you like some silly child that fell down in the playground. You knew you want to laugh at my plight; I heard you complaining to our teammates about my irritating attitude. Just go ahead and jeer at me, you knew you wanted to.  
  
Don't… touch me…?  
  


  
_ Hush, love  
_

  
  
Don't… Why, Ken?  
  
Why were you touching me?  
  
Your fingers… They were so warm - circled around my wrist and holding my hand away from my face. Maybe it was because I had spent half the night out in the rain - that must have been why your touch felt like a fire on my rain-cooled skin. It was a sensation that I could willingly let myself drown in forever. It didn't numb like pain did, and neither did it torment like rage did. It was just a touch, but it felt like so much more…  
  
I swore you must have been burning with a fever; you must have been sick. Because you came towards me and took my head against the flat of your stomach - holding me close as my mother once did.  
  
The tears… They were so hot. They burnt my cheeks and slipped past my lips, leaving a trail of slick heat… So hot, so damning. And yet so cleansing… Like poison bleeding out from beneath my skin after having been trapped within for so, so long…  
  
No questions, no chiding words. You simply held me close, and I could only drain my wretched tears against you, staining your shirt with my grief. The clenching and unclenching of my fist against your clothes, the scrapping of my teeth against your flesh that echoed through hungry sobs - you paid no heed. You had only the simplest of words for me on that night.  
  
"Hush..."  
  
There was another word that had formed in your chest, but it died on your lips - the merest traces of it lingering unspoken but understood and vibrating softly in your chest. I dare not assume, but the emotions behind it were conveyed in your gentle embrace, challenging me to ignore the unmentioned.  
  


  
_ I see a light in the sky  
Oh, it's almost blinding me  
I can't believe  
I've been touched by an  
angel with love  
_

  
  
Now that I think about it, the entire situation was almost ludicrous - madder than mortal longings allowed. You… what did you called me…?  
  
Love.  
  
Ha - love indeed.  
  
"Ken…" I didn't want those lies that would be so easily broken if so desired by another; I didn't want visionary dreams of romantic fluff that you had just uttered.  
  
You didn't falter even under the harshness of my voice - maybe you attributed it to be the result of my shameless weeping. Instead, you did one of the most unexpected things a man in your position could do.  
  
You.fucking.kissed.me.  
  
Me - Fujimiya Aya - the man without a soul, a man who could not love or be loved…  
  
You were fucking insane, Ken.  
  
So pray tell me - why did it seem so natural - your lips on mine…?  
  
There was nothing more than a single touch and that soft pressure applied upon my tear-moistened lips. I could feel your hands sliding down my back and gliding down to rest on mattress as you lowered yourself down onto your knees.  
  
Then you drew back, stealing away that sheer intensity of the moment. I could feel myself moving forward automatically, a strange strangled sound having worked its way past my lips in annoyance at your actions, or rather, the lack of it.  
  
Ears were flooded by the sound of raindrops on the nearby zinc rooftops, the insistent pitter-patter ringing clearer as the seconds ticked away. But they became dulled the moment I tuned myself towards you, towards your kneeing form. Was it just me, or did your breathing seemed to grow louder with each passing lapse of silence…?  
  
When you didn't look up after a long time, I turned back to gazing out of the window. A light wind had picked up, sending a few stray droplets onto my face. Blinking the foreign wetness from my eyes, I could make out the first rays of sunlight breaking through the rain clouds.  
  
Funny how fast dawn sneaked up on you when you were least aware of it. Funny how one never noticed the various red rainbows that danced across the skyline, licking its way northwards and sweeping itself over the black city at the first break of day. Funnier still, how the rain had managed one last pathetic splatter against the roofs before the bleak cotton balls rolled away into the distance.  
  
There was light again.  
  
The bed sheets crumpled under your grasp as you gazed up at me, turquoises ever so clear even in the darkness of my mind. You said nothing - all you did was smile up at me softly.  
  
Your lips moved slowly, mouthing to me silent reassurances.  
  
_It'll be alright.  
_  
And it was good enough for me - for now.  
  


  
_ Let the rain come down and wash  
away my tears  
Let it fill my soul and  
drown my fears  
Let it shatter the walls  
for a new sun  
_

  
  
They told me that they found you, Aya. That you were alive.  
  
Alive.  
  
A single word, five alphabets - an eternal spring of hope that had burst forth the moment the news reached my ears. You couldn't have guessed how hard I fought the urge to just cry out in joy then. It was the pure ecstasy of life and dreams that I thought was stolen together with you.  
  
For the first time in months, aside from that fateful night when I found solace in the presence of another, I felt the thirst drain from my body. A new liquid - warm with hopes and possibilities - took over the wretched emptiness that the former had gained a foothold on.  
  
And I finally smiled. I couldn't help it at all, even though I knew we still had to come and save you. But you were alive, and that was all that mattered to me there and then. I almost wanted to hum while working in the shop today, but I caught myself in time, a smile of amusement that played on my lips having taken over its place instead.  
  
But he saw me smiling. And he smiled back.  
  
"I'm happy for you," Turquoises half-closed in a soft smile.  
  
I turned away, drawing myself away from your eyes.  
  
"Aa…"  
  
"It's great news, Aya. Your sister is safe… You have a family to return to now," Your voice dropped to a muted whisper, "But my family is here…"  
  
I had no words for you - not even those that I usually kept to myself in my head…  
  
You were alive, Aya. That was all that mattered to me. It was you that kept me going; kept me strong for so long. I had lived for you for the past two years already, hadn't I?  
  
So why was it that when I saw his downcast expression, a part of me that I never knew existed ached so sharply…?  
  
I walked outside with the excuse that I was going to move the display out, but he knew as well as I did that I was trying to escape from him - from those accusing eyes that challenged me to find happiness when we all had none to speak of.  
  
The pots weighted down my hands, Aya… The news that you were alive and waiting for me should have shed me of all my burdens, but pray tell me - why was there a pound of lead sitting in the cavity of my chest…?  
  
I turned away, and never looked back at him. Because I knew I couldn't do it without seeing those silently resentful turquoises.  
  
Why the bitterness, Ken…?  
  


  
_ A new day has come  
_

  
  
What has happened between us, I wondered. I thought you would be happy for me. I thought you would be like the others, a simple nod at least at my resurrected dreams. I hoped so much, but every single time I thought I was a step closer to unravelling the mystery of your soul you backed away and erected another shield between us.  
  
No anger, no sadness, no words. I looked on in bewilderment at all that you were, unable to comprehend what you had stored away in that secret cache of your heart… You used to be warm to us, Ken - to *me*.  
  
What has happened, Ken?  
  
The doorbell chimes dimly, the cold metal slapping against thick glass carelessly as the door was swung open. I watched you slip on an artificial smile and approach the lady who had just arrived. Within moments you two were chatting up a storm and you were rather successfully convincing her to clear out half the shop.  
  
Yohji whistled in surprised admiration, and Omi grinned back to the tall blonde.  
  
I wondered if you meant it when you winked at her coyly…  
  
Maybe you never noticed; maybe you were just pretending that you never saw it from me - that I watched on in silence. Some days I felt like a stalker - that was the result of me following you whenever you left the Koneko without a word, which you were doing with increasing frequency.  
  
And furthermore those were the days when you had no children to coach in football. So the moment you started using the excuse that you were coaching the children whenever you wanted to escape, even Yohji was aware that something was amiss.  
  
We can read you like a book, Ken.  
  
But this was the first book that I never dared to lift from the shelf, wary that should I lay you open your too-fragile spine would snap, causing pages to spill out and cascade to the floor - destroyed and vengeful.  
  
Because you left me no avenues for questions, I did the only thing that a man in my position could do.  
  
I watched on - quietly.  
  
Watched you unfold your thoughts and emotions in your unique little gestures, and studying them as a student would. I knew there would be the day when I would need to call upon these observations to break through to reach you… before you slipped too far away.  
  


  
_ Where it was dark now  
there's light  
Where there was pain  
now there's joy  
Where there was weakness,  
I found my strength  
_

  
  
Why had you wasted your tears on the treachery of dreams, I had no idea. And there was the added fact that I had no idea what I was doing in your room at three in the morning, barefooted and beady-eyed.  
  
Oh yes - it was the result of rude awakening - your screams and shouts of anger and bitterness that resounded abnormally loudly in the emptiness of this apartment. A quick rummage through the hastily put together memory and I recalled that Omi was spending the night at a classmate's house, and Yohji was busy… well - acting like a stag permanently in the rutting season.  
  
Your sobs were magnified in the darkness of your room, rocking your rigid form violently and distorting the stray moonbeams that had stolen into your room. But in the black shadows I could not see your face - that part of you that would convey all your fears immediately to me.  
  
So I did what any normal human being would do - I reached for the switch and flicked on the fluorescent light hanging directly between us.  
  
Instinctively I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness, but I registered no such moves from you in the entire period in which my eyes took to adjust to the new intensity. A lowered hand I could see that you had whipped your head towards me the moment the light came on, your mouth hanging open in bewilderment and your eyes wide with surprise. In fact, I suppose we might call this the "caught in the headlight" look, Ken.  
  
The silence was held for a long time - drawn out enough for the insistent tick-tick of your clock to begin wearing down my already-fraying nerves. Yet even if we had forever, the mere thought of using words to connect us seemed a terrible violation of this potent silence.  
  
"I had a dream."  
  
I looked up; you had already turned your head away to stare into the crumpled sheets pooled around your legs.  
  
"A dream?"  
  
"A dream."  
  
We were in serious danger of endless repetition here.  
  
I dared myself to venture forward - just two steps closer, and tried to work an explanation out from you.  
  
"What did you dream about?"  
  
I admit I was insulted when you just stared at me for the next five minutes without forming a single intelligent word.  
  
"You want to hear about my dreams, Aya…?" Figures - it must have been a little hard for you to comprehend that I could care for anyone else beside myself.  
  
But to my surprise you turned away, lips curled upwards in a twisted sneer.  
  
"No, Aya. I think I said it wrongly… It was a nightmare. A fucking nightmare…" Fists clenched and unclenched into the sheets, wringing cloth between sweat-soaked palms, "What do I - an assassin no less - have left to dream about?"  
  
Another step forward… and another.  
  
"Stand there," a pause, then, "Don't come any nearer."  
  
I frowned. This was really getting us nowhere, and it was too early in the morning for any shouting to commence either.  
  
"Ken," I tried to muster the most no-nonsense sounding voice I could for such a wee hour.  
  
Your eyes were still as defiant as ever even when you bestowed your undivided attention upon your leader. Did you ever have the chance to see such a look on your face in the mirror before, Ken? You tried to look angry, but all I could see was bitterness sipping out from those misted-over turquoises.  
  
Closer still I drew, and this time you said nothing. All you did was continue your glaring at me - to try and tell me nonverbally to back off before you are forced to hurt someone.  
  
"Nightmares or dreams, they cannot touch you out here in the real world, Ken. It's not exactly the best place to be in, but at least you'll be away from the imaginary violence fabricated in your sleep."  
  
You didn't say anything, but I noticed how your shoulders shagged visibly with relief.  
  
"And we're here for you," Lips suddenly felt too dry, "I'm here for you."  
  


  
_ All in the eyes of a boy  
Hush,love  
_

  
  
Apprehensive fingers touched, kissing palm to palm and finally joining in an interlocking grip. I could feel your pulse drumming steadily against my palm, and I questioned how my own heartbeat must have felt like to your touch.  
  
The distance between us became negligible as my hands slipped higher and higher up your arm, coming to grasp at your shoulders in a firm but soft hold.  
  
Turquoises into amethysts - questions and answers danced between them. But there was one shared thought; one shared question and one longed for answer. They were all there, Ken - in your eyes.  
  
I wondered if you would cry or shout or fight me off. I wondered if you would respond to me favourably. I wondered… if your lips were as tender as before in that unmentioned kiss.  
  
I realised - through the gentle touch of our lips - that all the answers laid on your tongue; they were waiting to be sought out and tasted. It was a language that had no need for words, and that language belonged to you… and to me.  
  
I never knew that I could be possessed so thoroughly. Ever.  
  
Not with so simple a touch. So with lips stilled against yours I opened my eyes slowly, and whispered to those shy turquoises in a language that we understood. But they were words spoken of a million and one times by our movements alone. A slight distance between moist lips was created, and a soft breathe which none of us knew who released first.  
  
But I knew the words that I owed you for my actions.  
  
"Hush, love."  
  
That look of utter shock on your face was something I could never forget, ever.  
  


  
_ I see a light in the sky  
Oh, it's almost blinding me  
I can't believe  
I've been touched by an  
angel with love  
_

  
  
"Fuck off, Aya."  
  
The venom in your voice was so thick that it strangled the air around us, lacing its sickly fingers around my neck and squeezing the walls of my throat together. For once I dared not look at you, dropping my head down to stare into the wooden flooring and watching my own shadows heave in shock, apprehension and defeat.  
  
At your words.  
  
You have struck the first blow, Ken.  
  
Fists took the place of uncurled fingers, shuddering with silent anger. Was that all that you had to say to me, Ken? Telling me to "fuck off" after I had finally brought out the courage from within myself to paint those illusions of kept promises…?  
  
I wanted to demand an answer from you - for your choice of words, for you and your foolishly dropped hints. So I looked up, readying my lips into an angry scowl.  
  
Amethysts met turquoises which were clouded over by… confusion?  
  
I watched your body tremble, arms wrapped protectively around yourself as you sat curled with drawn up knees, each breath clearly indicated by the rising and falling of your back.  
  
"Aya…"  
  
My half-drawn breath became caught in my throat, forcing me into the sublime submission of hearing whatever you had to say without being able to interrupt for the next few seconds at least.  
  
"When you kiss me, you had better mean it." The brief flexing of your fingers around your upper arm, "As in, not just a kiss, Aya."  
  
I blinked.  
  
Your fingers trail lazily through your unkempt locks, tugging at the ends of your fringe to pull them out from your eyes. Now unblocked, the naked emotions in your eyes became too crystal-clear to me at once - slamming into me with a force that could only have been felt by your fallen victims.  
  
"So… If you were to kiss me again…" A teasing drawl from those kiss-moisted lips.  
  
I said nothing - all I could do was kiss you again.  
  
And again.  
  
And never let go of that feeling… that taste.  
  
Never let go… of you.  


  
  
_ Let the rain come down and wash  
away my tears  
Let it fill my soul and  
drown my fears  
Let it shatter the walls  
for a new sun  
_

  
  
There was enough darkness within me to be shared and handed out with exceeding generosity; enough of it to make others shun me and tear away from the mere sound of my voice.  
  
You were the only one to actively reach out into the shadows and touch a part of me that I had buried away in the world of broken promises - that tiny silver of Fujimiya Ran that was left in the wake of his sister's coma. A touch vaguely reminiscent of the cleansing spring rains that tickled against my window panes on those lonely moments of red twilight.  
  
It was the kind of touch that made me wanted to look up at the soul so brave as to reach out to me; the kind of touch that made me draw in a deep breath and savour the sweetness of an unspoilt morning filled with infinite possibilities.  
  
And hope.  
  
When they told me hope was undying, I took up the cross and held it closest to my heart - at times even closer than those of my own blood.  
  
I was never converted - I never had the strict religious upbringing as you did. But in those days there was so much offered for so little in return that the tiny emblem felt more like an ornament rather than a pledge of allegiance.  
  
A tiny little silver cross from a friend - reminding me to be strong and hold onto hope always.  
  
So when they took away Aya and my family from me, I cut and bled myself over it - bleeding over the false optimism that they tried to force-feed me with… Bleeding over that tiny cross that had imprinted itself into my heart.  
  
I bled and I bled until my wounds closed and my tears ran dry.  
  
Then I took up the cross again. In vengeance.  
  
And now your touch… it has washed away the old blood; cleaned away the stubborn stains that had smeared themselves all over me - reminding me to continue to dream - to *dare* to dream.  
  
Hope… comes from the strangest places, and the most unexpected circumstances.  
  


  
_ A new day has  
_

  
  
And I found myself caring more than I usually would towards this motley bunch… towards *you*.  
  
What have you turned me into? I dare say you made me… fluffy.  
  
Fluffy.  
  
Urgh.  
  
The morning following the confessions from our lips and lips alone, you practically whirled into the shop front, nearly slamming into Omi who had been busy since the delivery truck came a few hours ago. A trademark grin to him and all you got in response to your clumsiness was the usual "Mou, Ken-kun!"  
  
In an attempt to invoke a further response from him, you then turned your attention to me as I descended down the stairs. A slight pout had worked its way onto your lips, causing you to look years younger than you really were.  
  
It worked - I smiled.  
  
"Ah - ohaiyo, Aya-kun!" Omi's voice travelled easily around the house.  
  
Most fortunately, I was able to suppress the smile on my lips before I descended into Omi's line of vision. Yet I wasn't able to stop the words from slipping past my lips - it was as if they had been formed as a result of a conditioned reflex.  
  
"Ohaiyo, Omi."  
  
I didn't supposed that I would ever see Omi looking so petrified. The spell weaved about him but vanished the next instance as those brilliant sapphires sealed off in a bright smile.  
  
"Ohaiyo, Aya-kun," A repeated greeting that was softer in tone, but many times brighter than the one before.  
  
There was no time for continued friendliness, and soon we were all starting off on our respective tasks for the day. You brushed past me, looking slightly angry with a finger raised as if berating me for not smiling to Omi as well.  
  
Yet a moment later you closed your eyes and nodded in silent understanding.  
  
That this was good enough… for now.  
  


  
_ Let the rain come down and wash  
away my tears  
Let it fill my soul and  
drown my fears  
Let it shatter the walls  
for a new sun  
_

  
  
A single second of incompetence and you slipped away from me again, Aya. Did you know how I felt when I saw you in the arms of our enemies - your sleeping form held like a limp doll and caressed with mock gentility…?  
  
And his words - so piercing and painful to hear…  
  
I have failed you again, Aya.  
  
I have failed you.  
  
I have... failed.  
  
The pain had never been so clearly felt before. Maybe it was because you have never been so close, and yet so far away at the same time. I nearly touched you.  
  
And then you were gone.  
  
Be strong and continue to hope, they told me - Manx, Birman, Yohji, Omi… That was all that they could say to me.  
  
I can't breathe anymore, Aya… It hurts to draw more air into this tainted cavity of a body already. They couldn't heal me right from the start, and neither could they now.  
  
Not even Ken.  
  
But I remembered my promise to you and you alone. That I had to be strong, for your sake. For revenge. And that I have to trade away whatever that was left of my soul so I could focus all my energy on protecting you and you alone.  
  
There would be no place for another fountain of strength.  
  
This… is my new direction - my new light.  
  


  
_ A new day has come  
_

  
  
You could have just trashed me up, Ken. Just flash those knuckles at me and then land them square on my jaw to stop me from turning away from your smiles.  
  
But you knew better than that. Because had you done so, it would only have driven the wedge further between us and jerked me away from you. You said nothing even as you took note that the smiles had disappeared from my lips as if they had never previously existed.  
  
In the Koneko everyone said nothing of my darkness, even when it was so clearly written across my features. The customers had taken to being served by the rest of you instead while I work on the plants, sometimes pruning them more than I needed to, leaving nothing but a naked, tormented mess of brown in its wake.  
  
The soft snipping sound from the scissors rang in my ears ever so often, long after I had put them away for the day. The wicked sound of metal cutting and clipping away at the innocent plants - cutting away my life bit by bit at the same time. None of you questioned me; so neither had I any answers for you all.  
  
It was easiest this way, really - to no longer need to feel, and simply become the full-fledged monsters as we were hired and trained to be. It wasn't easy moving back into my silent recluse, and at times it felt almost impossible to achieve.  
  
Especially when I was looking into your eyes. As I was doing right now when you decided to plant yourself right in the middle of the corridors and completely obstruct my way back to the bleakness of my abode.  
  
Angry turquoises; almost forceful in their insistence.  
  
"Kiss me", you had demanded.  
  


  
_ Oh, a light  
_

  
  
"Kiss me."  
  
The suddenness of the command had me thrown off for a moment before I managed to regain my composure to regard you with an unaffected gaze.  
  
"You're out of your mind," Briefly, I wondered if that statement had been directed at myself when I spoke it.  
  
"I'm not, Aya. You're just not aware of the other lives around you - that we care about you. Do you think we can stand just sitting around, watching you descend back into that fortress that you have built yourself into? I won't let you fall back down again, Aya. You've got to kill me to make me stop," A low, annoyed growl at being shunned.  
  
"Get out of my way."  
  
"Make me."  
  
Such strength I had never known in you - not until the moment your hands flew at me and grasped me roughly by my face and seized me in a passionate display of possession over my lips with yours. I had not been prepared for this - not this roughness and violence in your actions.  
  
Your nails were pressing into my cheek - they were cutting into my flesh.  
  
You were hurting me, Ken.  
  
In my mind danced a million questions, ranging from the very simple "why?" to the complex explanations for your fading sanity - one of the few but extreme probable reasons for such an act to have come from you. From the Ken that I knew.  
  
Then I realised that because of all the demons that had captured and held me back, that I never really known you. Never made the effort to, and never actively sought out a reason for your feelings.  
  
Towards me.  
  


  
_ Hush, now  
_

  
  
Clawing digits slipped back and became replaced by the soft pads of your fingers - your hold on me fading into the gentleness that I thought only possible from those truest to me. Pulling back you continued to hold on - your lips but a breath away from mine and your eyes shining with the multitude of emotions swirling about in your head. In your heart.  
  
I could hear your harsh breathing melt into soft puffs of air against my lips, eyes now downcast having been so thoroughly rejected by my lack of response. Having seen the dejection in you I thought you would have walked off and left me alone - to let me continue on my own way.  
  
But being the unpredictable person that you were, you just had to go against your facial expression.  
  
Another touch of the lips - yours warm and mine cold with the night wind. The clashing sensations teased and tormented like angry sparks, urging me into responding. Not just to the kiss, but to the emotions backing it - to you.  
  
I pressed forward - softly, sweetly. A chaste touch compared to your angry assault of lips and tongue. It lasted for perhaps no longer than a few seconds, but I could feel every single movement from your body as if they had taken hours to unfold - from the relaxing of your tensed shoulders to your arms that slipped lower to curl about my neck and enfolded me into the primal sensations.  
  
The force of angry limbs had dulled and in place was taken over by the tender motions of a reassuring touch - your touch.  


  
  
_ I see a light in your eyes  
All in the eyes of a boy  
_

  
  
You finally pulled back to gaze at me - to try and read from my face the same words as expressed by my lips. I watched you raise one hand to my cheek and draw away a mysterious drop of crystal that had formed from within my damned form, the surprise at my silent tears etched firmly into the furrows of my eyebrows.  
  
I didn't know what to say to you then; I didn't know what you expected me to do either. All I could do was lock my arms around your waist in curiosity at your actions in the past five minutes, pondering at the significance of them, possibly a little amused by the thought of how much time you must have spent planning what to do and say to me tonight.  
  
But it had worked.  
  
And it was all that mattered.  
  
Lip to lip again, but not quite some much a kiss as a reassuring caress. No movements and only the simplest of words offered up to one as undeserving as me.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Lips and tongues could lie, but never eyes. Especially not yours. For the briefest of moment as we remained touching I cracked open my eyes to look into yours.  
  
That was not the look of a liar, for I had never seen such pure devotion in any eyes that I had come across in this short but all too dark lifetime.  
  
I would believe in them… always.  
  


  
_ I can't believe  
I've been touched by an  
angel with love  
_

  
  
Trapped in your silent embrace was the safest sanctuary for one such as myself, for I had never felt more secured and calmer anywhere else.  
  
Late nights, I would sit up and wonder why you had come to me so willingly - to offer me whatever precious bit of yourself that you had left - offered them without holding back as only the most self-sacrificing lovers would.  
  
I wondered… if that was the term for our relationship.  
  
Just holding onto each other late into the nights and never letting go even into the mornings - to be so caught up in the touch of another that I would seem naked and incomplete without you around.  
  
… And someone to hold onto you and keep you strong as you lay awake from nightmares and violent dreamscapes.  
  
I looked at you - arms about my waist and lips buried against your arm as you mumbled something silly in your sleep. The very same pose that I would have assumed on those rare nights that I needed someone to keep me going.  
  
Someone to give me hope and the strength to stand against whatever that I might find thwarting my way to the light again. It was to be a long journey as I had discovered, and I was grateful to have been granted your companionship.  
  


  
_ I can't believe  
I've been touched by an  
angel with love  
_   


  
"Dear Aya,  
  
When you see this note I hope you doing well with your life. I've been watching over you each day from that fateful day our lives changed forever. There were the days when I had failed you and not been able to keep my promises, but they're over now.  
  
You may never see me again, Aya. But it's alright. I hope you will be strong and be blessed with the same strength that I had found in you, and that you will continue to be strong for my sake, as I am strong for those who love me.  
  
It is for the best that it comes to such a closure, and I hope you won't come to bear a grudge against me. I'll be watching out for you; watching after you. Always.  
  
Fujimiya Ran"  


  
  
_Hush, now  
A new day  
Hush, now  
A new day  
_

  
  
-@-@-@-@-  
  
  
Author's notes: Well, my first song fic to date ^_^;; I hope this didn't come off as being too cheesy or sappy. Urgh… Stoopid Romeo and Juliet movie… ^_~  
  
In case it's still a little murky, Aya's definition of love in this songfic is to become strong for the sake of those you love and who love you.  
  
Some people might say that a Celine Dion song doesn't work for the Weiß fandom, but I happen to like this one, so *bleah* Reviews/comments/criticisms/cookies much appreciated =^_^=  



End file.
